For Your Gallantry
by Brindabella
Summary: A complex tale of family truth and struggle see Matt and Jen become the perfect detecting duo. But when they hit a brick wall with their investigation, everything changes, and suddenly the chances they once took for granted are all but lost.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Where was that cat when she wanted him? If only he lived for food like normal pets, where even if you just kicked their food bowl accidently as you walked past, they would come racing from nowhere thinking that it was dinnertime. But not Jerry. He couldn't care less. He was very much his own cat, just like she was her own person. They really suited each other quite well when she thought about it.

But right now he was making her late for work. She spooned a few globs of Whiskers into his bowl and walked out the door, unable to wait and call out to him any longer to see if he was inside or outside. If he was outside he'd just have to wait until dinner. Jennifer walked briskly down the front path and stopped only for a moment to drop the empty cat food tin into her recycling bin before she slipped stealthily into her car. As she pumped the accelerator and turned the key in the ignition to wake her car up on the impossibly cold morning, the digital clock lit up brightly on the dash. 7:47am. She usually liked to allow twenty minutes to get in to the office, but as she backed out of the driveway she felt confident she could do it in thirteen. She flew up the street and was into the morning traffic in moments.

Almost there, she entered a clear, long stretch of road that was the final leg of her trip. Time was ticking, and she was beginning to get twitchy about being late. A red ute sat in front of her, doing well under the 100km that was allowed on the highway. She cursed the driver inside her head as his brake lights flickered on ever so tentatively and she changed lanes with the flash of her indicator. Out of my way, she thought, eager to get to the kitchenette in the Homicide office that always promised a new carton of milk and packet of biscuits on Monday mornings, thanks to Homicide's favourite cleaning lady. Jennifer could practically taste the coffee already.

More brake lights. No room. No distance. No time. She pressed hard on her brakes as the car in front of her stopped almost to a standstill. She gasped, not even reacting quick enough to swear, and tried in vain to control her small car. She heard the squeal of her tyres, felt the skid of her wheels and smelt the burning of rubber all at once as she fishtailed into the lane she'd just changed out of. She pulled at the steering wheel one way, but her car went the other and her eyes opened wide as she tried to direct her car and keep her life.

But as quickly as it had happened it was over. She was in her lane again. Her heart wasn't in her mouth though, nor beating wildly out of her chest in fright. She couldn't even feel it at all anymore. She quickly slipped into the emergency lane and came to a slower, more dignified halt than she had moments before. Not even realising what she was doing, she turned off the car, pulled the keys out of the ignition and threw them into her handbag on the passenger seat next to her. She sat stock still for what felt like minutes, but was probably only seconds.

What had happened? She _was _concentrating on the road, but she knew she'd been going too fast and been too impatient. She tried to slow her breathing and her heart rate, but had little success. In a effort to pull herself together she placed a cold hand on her forehead, hoping it would make her feel better and with the other dug into her bag for the bag of jelly babies she had left half eaten in there the previous day. Maybe sugar would bring her back to life. She grabbed a handful and shoved them into her mouth, chewing unconsciously. Her heart began thumping in her chest again the longer she sat on the side of the road and despite the incredible urge she had to vomit, she started the car up again and slid slowly back into the traffic, barely managing half the speed she'd started out with that morning. In a daze she made it to the office, and walked dizzily to the entrance.

She'd done defensive driving and stunt work at the police academy all those years ago, and, according to her resume, had passed with flying colours. But nothing compared to the sheer fright a single moment when one has no control over what's about to happen to them can bring. Driving a car she realised, was as dangerous as wielding a gun. She knew she should be used to both with the job she had, but she freely admitted to herself in those moments she sat in the emergency lane that some days she wasn't everything she thought she was.

Her shoes clicked on the marble floor of the foyer of Homicide, a surprisingly stylish building in the heart of the city. But she didn't notice the sound of her shoes, or the people around her, still in shock from her very near miss not even an hour out of bed. She suddenly found herself in the elevator and she just stood there, waiting for the doors to close. Her left hand held her briefcase loosely and her handbag slipped one strap at a time off her shoulder as Matt ran in just as the doors began to close.

"Hi," he smiled, not noticing her unsteady breathing and shocked eyes. It was their usual greeting on a Monday morning, a day when they always seemed to arrive at the same time. She used to think that it was because he was as eager to begin a new week with the team in a job he enjoyed the way she did, but recently she'd been having her doubts that that was the reason. He smiled and reached across her to press the button for their floor. As the number lit up in a bright green glow, he settled back to standing beside her, his arms weighed down even more than hers with a heavy briefcase and numerous files.

Jennifer gave him a half hearted, not all there smile and continued to look dazedly ahead of her. Frowning at her lack of response in morning greeting, something he so looked forward to everyday (but would never tell her!) he gave her a soft nudge with his elbow. It was barely a graze, but it made her drop her briefcase and get her arm tangled up in her handbag straps as her knees buckled a little. Juggling his own belongings, he reached out to catch her arm and quickly had her upright again, the frown still on his face.

Are we getting closer?

Falling to your knees

"Are you ok?" he asked worriedly as colour finally returned to his colleagues face. She turned to him in appreciation and pulled her bag back onto her shoulder. The smile was wider this time and he felt relieved.

"Sorry, sorry," she apologised awkwardly, absentmindedly bending down to gather her half open briefcase off the floor of the lift. He bent down to help her and a moment later they returned to standing together, just as the doors opened again. "I'm ok," she smiled. "Just not quite…awake." Now she appeared flustered and Matt watched her mentally gather herself together. Something must be up, he thought, because it wasn't working. She stumbled out of the lift, almost dropping her briefcase again and making quite the entrance for her workmatres to have a chuckle at over their morning caffeine hits.

Matt followed Jennifer as she strutted briskly straight to the kitchenette across the office. She dumped her belongings on the bench and immediately opened the fridge and pulled out a half drunk bottle of Coke. Leaning on the fridge door, she held the bottle up to her forehead and closed her eyes.

Matt hovered by the bench. "Are you sure you're ok?" he asked again, concern in his voice this time, all the evidence before him that something certainly wasn't ok. Jennifer looked up and finally seemed to come to life and appear as the Jennifer he usually saw on Monday mornings.

She shook her head as she put the bottle back into the fridge. "Oh you know, I just nearly killed myself on the freeway just then," she revealed, frowning at the memories of the near miss that had rattled her so much. "I was so worried I was going to be late." She shook her head, trying to erase the fog and the memories. She turned around and leant on the bench and bowed her head, closing her eyes again, and as she did so Matt took the opportunity to sidle up beside her and make her a coffee. He picked up her hand and placed the steaming mug in it, wrapping her almost blue fingers around the handle.

Jennifer at last took a deep breath and managed a proper smile, and Matt smiled back at her encouragingly. She wrapped her other hand around the mug and walked back out into the office. As she reached the doorway she stopped and looked back over her shoulder, turning ever so slightly back to face her colleague. "Thanks Matt," she said quietly, her fine features, usually so serious, and this morning up until now so shocked, curving into the face he constantly worried he was falling in love with.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Mondays were often quiet in the compact office where Homicide operated from and hours passed for Jennifer, as she ploughed through paperwork – so often pages and pages of reports for so little work and time out in the field. It was a part of policing that she detested, but it had to be done. By midday she was almost done when another steaming hot mug of coffee was plonked beside her pencil holder. She looked up to see a smiling, sympathetic Matt standing just inches from her. "Thought you could use another," he offered, sounding nervous and expectant of a good answer from her. She smiled back in return, the bleak nauseous feeling of the early morning now dissolved and almost forgotten in the pit of her stomach. The coffee had helped and she welcomed another one. "Thanks," she replied picking up the mug and wrapping her hands around it. Matt returned to his desk with a bop in his step and she watched him curiously as she sipped at the boiling liquid.

An instant later her stare was interrupted by Simon as he sidled up to her desk and informed her that Wolfe had told him to take her with him on some follow up visits from recent cases. He was jacketed up and ready to go and he hurried her along, uncaring that she was deserting her coffee and her steadily emptying in tray. He hustled her out of the office and as they stepped into the elevator and she drew her arm back to slip it into her jacket, she caught sight of Matt watching after her, a look of disappointment on his face. She was mildly surprised – she knew he hated doing meaningless public relations and tissue soaking moments with the public, so she knew he wasn't disappointed he wasn't going with her and Simon. Before she had a chance to think about what he could really be disappointed about though, the elevator hit the bottom floor with a squidgy bump and released them from its claustrophobia.

Simon continued to hurry her along, eager he said, to get the bum jobs out of the way for the week. She could understand that at least, and so kept up with his pace. Together they did all and more to make Wolfe proud of their initiative upon their return to the office and by sunset they were back in the office only long enough to grab their belongings and head home. As Jennifer gathered her bags and clutter, she felt a little lonely in the solitude of the office – no one else appeared to be around, not even her workaholic boss. She suppressed a sigh that threatened to erupt from deep inside her that expressed the sadness she always felt about never having anywhere more exciting to go after work, and about only having a stubborn, grumpy old cat to go home to. It was beginning to get to her as strongly as she had once been against interoffice relationships. She had stamped her feet then, shut herself off, refused to ever bend the rules, whether they were the police forces, or her own. She would not get involved with anyone at work, she just wouldn't. It wouldn't work. It couldn't work. But now as she walked slowly back to the elevator, letting the 5:30pm winter sun create shadows with her every step, she couldn't remember all the reasons why she had once felt that way. Because she knew somewhere that it had deprived her of more things than it had provided her with, and she regretted that.

Wasted days and sleepless nights

And I can't wait to see you again

She pushed at the down button, feeling annoyed. As she waited patiently for the lift to arrive she tried to think of something she could do to cheer herself up, to make tonight not suck quite so much. By the time she was in the foyer of the building that was her second home, she'd decided on some proper Italian pizza and a funny dvd. The effect would barely last til morning, but by then she'd be back at work, so she wouldn't need cheering up or something that would take her mind off of her loneliness anymore. She could focus back on the job.

Back on the road outside Homicide, Jennifer felt her stomach tighten just a little as she negotiated the brake and the accelerator on her drive home. A fear seemed to be entrenched within her now and she wondered if it would always feel like this whenever she drove a car. That morning had been the closest to an accident as she'd ever had and it still made her breathing go funny, so she was grateful for the quick trip back to seclusion and Jerry. She pulled into her driveway slowly and parked, noticing her feline friend sitting impatiently on the front verandah, not looking at all amused at having missed breakfast. It made her smile to know someone had a day similar to her own.

An hour of yoga and a hot shower later, Jennifer was feeling positive once again about her comfortable night in on the couch and knew she had exercised enough to allow herself some pizza. She'd phoned through an order to the local pizzeria and at 7:30pm she wrapped a scarf around her neck and locked the front door as she headed out to pick up her supreme with no olives.

As she parked down a side street just metres from Little Nero's, she noticed the place was hopping and cars were parked wherever there was space. She frowned, hoping this didn't mean her pizza would be delayed. Crossing her arms over her chest, she shuffled along fast in the dreary cold night. Pushing open the door to Nero's, the distinct smell of garlic and spicy meats filled her headspace and her stomach gave a growl in response. The man behind the counter gave her a nod and a smile – she was unfortunately a recognisable regular due to many, many pizza and dvd nights spent on her lonesome – and she took a seat on the cracked leather booth lining the window by the door.

The place certainly was hopping. People were coming in and out, blowing the cold winter wind in her face so often that it bit into her skin and she got so fed up that she moved down closer to the counter as she waited for her pizza. In her new spot on the bench she had a full view of the diners in the restaurant. A cosy small place of only about twenty tables, it was packed and people were chowing down on huge slices of wood fired pizza and enjoying the hospitality of the authentic Italian atmosphere Little Nero's created so well. She smiled at the checkered napkins, large glasses of soft drink and baskets of garlic bread. It was a fun place to eat, somewhere where you could just be a kid again, she could tell. She promised herself she would dine in instead of takeaway one day.

"OhmygodMatt," she whispered under her breath as she saw him sitting in the near corner with Emma. She gasped and slipped back to her previous spot by the door, out of view of most of the diners. How mortifying, she thought, embarrassed at her ugg boot wearing, un-makeuped self. Jennifer Mapplethorpe was not materialistic and didn't care about such things really, but something compelled her to hide herself away from Matt's view and not allow him to feel the same awkwardness she was feeling at being in an uncomfortable position, love life wise. It was so strange to see a colleague out of work hours like this. It was not that they didn't ever catch up, at the pub or someone's place for a barbie, or see each other in the carpark in the morning or at the end of the day, but it was just that unexpectedly seeing a person she worked with rubbed Jennifer a different way – like she wasn't prepared for the sudden in depth look into her life away from work and how it probably wasn't looking the way she wanted to show it off if someone ever were to see it. Like a workmate for instance.

Plus there was the Emma situation. She chided herself for even calling it a situation though. It wasn't a situation, it was just her own jealousy through and through. But she didn't like to acknowledge even to herself the fact that she might be jealous of someone like Emma. She didn't know what the hell she wanted, or what she _should_ want. She wasn't sure if she wanted Matt, or anybody else, if she deserved him, or anybody else, if he felt the same way, if it would work, if if if.

"Jen!" the owner hollered sliding a pizza box across the counter in her direction. She cringed at his volume, loud enough to be heard even over the din of all the people in the restaurant and the clattering of pizza pans. Out of the corner of her eye she saw movement in the near corner where Matt and Emma sat, but she paid and slipped out of the restaurant before he could see her. She held onto her pizza box tightly as she ran back to her car, almost hyperventilating like some teenage girl around her crush.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Jennifer was plenty early for work the next day, having only watched half her dvd the night before, unable to keep her mind on the story, and had gone to bed early. As a result she was up even before Jerry, and went for a run before heading into the office. She hoped this tactic would put her well and truly behind her desk before Matt even entered the building, but her careful plan backfired when he too turned up with the sparrows.

The elevator door was more than half way closed, but, still energised from her morning run, Jennifer raced to make it in and she slipped through, holding her breath and sucking in her stomach, through the smallest of spaces and into the small cubicle. And there he was, right next to her yet again. She smiled at him, putting on a face that she hoped showed none of her insecurities or embarrassments of the night before. She prayed silently that he wouldn't mention Little Nero's.

"You weren't at Little Nero's last night were you?" he asked, turning to face her, hugging his folders to his chest. He always seemed to take work home she noted to herself then in the seconds she was given to answer his question. Maybe he didn't see as much of Emma as she thought he did.

Her shoulder muscles contracted with tension slightly as she answered the question she knew he would ask. She hoped it didn't show the way she wouldn't meet his eyes or the way she held onto her bag a bit more tightly. "Ahhh no? Where's Little Nero's?" she answered blankly. She knew it was over the top and obvious lying, but she hoped he wouldn't notice.

He didn't. And if he did, he didn't let it bother him, a decision she noted with relief, and, surprisingly, admiration. "Oh it's just this little pizza place near Emma's," he said, shaking his head as if to rid himself of all that he thought he saw the previous night. "We were there last night and I thought I heard someone call your name, but I didn't see you, so maybe I just heard wrong." He seemed genuinely puzzled and totally disappointed that she was telling him he was wrong in what he thought he'd heard at the restaurant.

"Must've," she replied, shrugging her shoulders at him. How could she admit she had in fact been there? No, she couldn't. Especially when he'd been out having a fun and romantic date and all she had cuddled up to that night was a doona and her cat. It was pathetic and she longed not to lose face in front of him. "Did you have a good time?" she asked, as if she'd not been to Little Nero's three thousand times since she'd lived in Melbourne.

His face turned from puzzled and disappointed to downright blank breathtakingly quickly as he answered. "It was nothing special," he shrugged his shoulders at her, avoiding her eyes this time. "The food was good," was all he would offer up.

She kept a smile plastered on her face in an attempt to look oblivious to his thoughts. She couldn't wait to get out of the lift. As soon as the number of their floor lit up she moved towards the doors and was out of them as soon as there was room for her to squeeze through, leaving Matt in her wake.

Later, Karen Hatzic breezed into the Homicide office unnoticed and suddenly, as she always did, waving a piece of paper in front of Matt's face. "Address of your latest body guys," she smiled. "Have fun!" And with that she was away, back to what Matt remembered only too well as menial uniform duties.

He poked his head up over his computer, scanning the office. Instead of cowering behind her computer, something compelled Jennifer to look up as he did, because she knew she couldn't avoid it. Duncan and Simon were out with Wolfe, so they were going to have to pair up for this whether they liked it or not. She smiled and gathered her coat, meeting Matt at the elevator doors once again. She realised, as they waited for it to arrive, that they didn't really talk much, instead always just smiling at one another or exchanging little awkward stares and curious and intrigued glances. They weren't getting very far. Why couldn't they talk?

The house was a classic example of Australian architecture, although it looked quite out of place in the Melbourne suburbs with its sprawling greenery in the front garden and distinct tropical holiday-ish feel to it. Always curious and always switched on, Jennifer took everything in the moment she got out of the car. Fingering a long fern as she passed it as she walked down the driveway, she breathed in the scent of the home she was about to enter. It was a medium sized place with a small back garden and a swimming pool. It could've been quite nice in the summer, she noted, with its palms and outdoor table, barbeque and pleasantly shading pergola. But today the look had been disturbed by the lashings of police tape the uniforms had gone crazy with around the crime scene, and the general glum and dreary feeling a winters day could bring to any scene, especially one where a body lay dead.

Jennifer and Matt made their way into the heart of the action and tried to find out the specifics. A middle aged uniform approached them and filled in the blanks for them.

"Grandmother, struck in the chest with a blunt object, died almost instantly," he droned, clearly having seen too many scenes just like this one. "The daughter says she already had a bad heart, pace maker and multiple bypasses and all, and things easily sent her heart racing."

"Who was home at the time?" Jennifer asked as she tightened the scarf around her neck and shoved her hands in her pockets to keep them warm. She wished she had gloves.

"No one apparently," the uniform replied, looking around the scene to where the family had gathered, a truly sombre bunch, but interestingly devoid of any displaying of emotion. Jennifer guessed that they were in shock, and knew that this could last longer than many people realised. Matt eyed them also and didn't seem to have as much sympathy. "Parents were at work, kids at uni and part time jobs. The grandmother was home alone." He motioned to the small garage size building that stood to their left. "They say she was more than happy to just sit in there, reading and doing crosswords. The rest of the family live in the house."

Matt and Jennifer thanked him for the information and made their way over to the family. They stood spread out – the mother by the back door, the father close to her, the brother on the picnic bench by the barbecue and the sister sitting on the ground, leaning up against a wall by the herb garden. They seemed disconnected somehow, Jennifer observed, as if they couldn't, or wouldn't, help each other deal with the loss of their mother and grandmother.

Matt approached the parents and spoke quietly to them, their heads close together, revealing information about the ghastly crime. That covered, Jennifer approached the girl by the herb garden, assuming she would be the easiest to break, as she looked young, barely 20, and petrified with the situation around her, if her face was anything to go by. Jennifer crouched by her side and smiled as honestly as she could muster. Introducing herself, Jennifer asked what her name was and if she had been the first one home that afternoon. The girl nodded, confessing her name to be Matilda and that yes, she had been the first person home.

"I didn't know at first though…" she said, her face contorting like she might cry, but no tears appeared. "Nanna just hangs out, happy to do her own thing. I didn't come and say hello the second I got home." A look of guilt crossed her face and she looked at her hands before Jennifer prodded her along.

"But you discovered her?" she asked gently.

Matilda nodded, looking up and over at her brother, who remained seated nearby. "Nash asked me where she was when he got home, and I said that she was in her room. That was when I went to say hello." She faltered, clasping her hands tightly together in her lap, wringing them and rubbing them so that they alternated red and white from the pressure of her touch. "But she was already…you know…she was…" her face crumpled and she couldn't go on. Jennifer thanked her and returned to standing before heading to Nash. As she expected, his story fell in line with his sister's and Jennifer smiled tightly at the young man, frustrated that so far everything was so annoyingly straight forward and text book.

She signalled Matt to join her by the door of the garage residence and he quickly made his way over to her. "I don't know if I want to see the body," she confessed in a whisper to him. It was a moment, they both knew, that would have perfectly suited just a quick squeeze of the hand in reassurance that they both felt the same way about viewing an elderly woman's bashed body, but of course they both kept well away, instead walking head on bravely into the room, ducking under the crime scene tape.

It was a bigger room than she'd sure had as a teenager when she'd still lived at home, and Jennifer stared at the soft green walls and old pine furniture. She didn't have a lot – nothing much other than a bed, dresser and rocking chair filled the room, with a tv mounted on the wall and a pile of books on the floor by the door. Jennifer noticed their titles – a slew of second hand Mills and Boons, the top corners of their covers snipped off, indicating she'd read them and they were ready to be exchanged for more. Her own grandmother used to do the same thing.

The woman lay face up on the yellow bedspread, her bony chest caved in slightly, obviously from the blow that had killed her. Her eyes, oddly enough, were closed, something Jennifer found perplexing, but she filed it away for discussion later on back at the office. Little else surrounded the woman and Jennifer and Matt exited soon after, seeing all they needed to see.

Back in the car on the route back to the office Jennifer couldn't help but garble on incessantly about any theories that had entered her head. Matt was an eager participant in voicing his opinions on her theories and Jennifer was surprised at how often he didn't agree with her. By the time they got back to the office they'd discussed the possibility of a home invasion, a fall, a random callous attack and a robbery gone wrong. But nothing sat right with Jennifer.

"Fill me in on this home invasion, who are these people?" Stanley asked the moment the pair re entered the Homicide floor, encouraging them to walk with him back to the common room. Once there, he and Matt slipped into seats while Jennifer made a beeline immediately for the white board, eager to get her theories sorted out in neat, coloured coded form. She scrawled the names of those she and Matt had spoken to and listed her thoughts on exactly what might have happened. Her two colleagues eyed her speedy white board skills and stifled chuckles before she turned to face them.

"Sandy, Mitch, Nash and Matilda Bond. The deceased is Sandy's mother, Rose Crawley. She lived with them in a flat out the back," Matt explained.

"We don't know for sure yet if it was a home invasion sarge," Jennifer insisted, capping her pen and sitting down two seats away from Matt and closest to her whiteboard display.

"What did they have to say?" Wolfe asked, folding his arms across his chest and pursing his lips the way he did when he was curious and thinking hard. "Give anything away?"

Jennifer shrugged her shoulders slightly, unsure of how to answer. As she tried to figure out a response, Matt jumped in for her. "I actually kind of got the impression they were relieved," he mused. Jennifer found herself nodding ever so slightly.

"Relieved?" Wolfe asked, surprised, no doubt due to the fact that any family was good family to him right now and he could not fathom the thought of deliberately being pleased a member had gone. "How so?" he turned to Jennifer as he posed the question.

"I didn't get the feeling they were relieved she was dead," she answered, frowning. "But there was definitely something up." She turned to Matt and spoke to him almost as if Stanley wasn't even there. "Did you notice how they weren't consoling each other?" she asked him.

He nodded his head vigouressly in agreement. "They were spread all over the backyard," he agreed. "Each in their own little world." He had taken the words out of her mouth and a smile curled onto her lips momentarily. This was how she felt most comfortable with Matt – when they were talking shop. Trusting and respecting each other and their judgements and opinions. It made her wonder though if it meant they could ever get along well enough out of the office.

Stanley nodded his head and stood up, making his way to the door. "Well, keep working on it. Scratch underneath the surface. You never know what lurks there."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Matilda Bond sat in front of Jennifer blankly, expressing the same shock and sadness she had the previous day. As Jennifer asked her endless questions about her grandmother and the day of her death, Matilda grew increasingly distraught, showing signs of stress and irritability. She seemed more and more uncertain about anything after 10am the day of Rose Crawley's death. Her story chopped and changed and she asked endlessly to see her family.

Matt and Jennifer interviewed the family at length the entire day and came together late in the afternoon to discuss their thoughts. Matt was honest and up front as he stood in front of the whiteboard, now littered with photos of the family and the crime scene and Jennifer's theories from the previous day. "I think the kids did it…or at least one of them did." He folded his arms and almost dared her to answer.

"Really?" she asked sceptically. "They don't look like the kind of kids who would."

"People are capable of much more than you realise Jen," he reminded her before stopping when he realised how harsh he sounded. "Besides, what _does _a granny killer look like? Why couldn't it be these kids? There're no other witnesses. They live on a super quiet street. The house doesn't look any more well off than any of the others in the neighbourhood. I'm finding it hard to believe it was a random home invasion."

She had to admit he was right. But she hadn't been able to crack Matilda or Nash enough yet to fully believe Matt's theory. She'd have to keep working on it they decided. The next day Matt would corner Nash, and she would focus on Matilda, hoping to reveal more.

Jennifer headed back to her desk in the main office to pack up her desk and make her way home. It was well after 7pm and Jennifer's stomach growled with hunger. For a fleeting moment she considered asking Matt to join her for some takeaway, but decided against it just as quickly. He would be meeting Emma surely, and she didn't want another awkward conversation like the one they'd had the previous day. So she bundled together her things, layering on her winter clothes and made her way to the lift. She pushed the button and looked back across the way to where Matt sat at his desk. "Aren't you meeting Emma tonight?" she asked as she waited.

Matt looked up from his laptop, surprised she was asking about Emma – it was probably one of the first times they had even discussed her really. But he was quick to answer. "Nah, not tonight. I've got some extra work to do here for a bit," he said. Jennifer was perplexed – hadn't she just noticed the other day how he always took his work home with him, not one to stay in the office late to finish it up? Yes, she had noticed that. Why the sudden change?

She didn't let her doubts show though. "Ok," she smiled. "Well, don't work too hard." He grinned back in response, assuring her silently that he probably would.

I find I spend my time

Waiting on your call


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Matilda sat uncomfortably across from Jennifer, tracing the outline of the table cloth with her fingers. She had pulled the sleeves of her white hoodie up over her hands, allowing only hints of her gold nailpolish to poke through. She was slender and pretty, a model of a girl really, and while she wore what every other 19 year old was wearing these days, Jennifer noticed that she somehow pulled it off better, as if she had a classic look that every style could be created upon. Every feature was fine lined and sleek, from her small diamond earrings to her smooth drop of a blonde ponytail and her delicate fringe that half sheltered her downcast blue eyes.

"Nanna was never really very well," she revealed, looking around her family dining room. "I don't think I can remember a time when there was nothing wrong with her. She was just always sick with something or other. Her cancer was just the basis of it all."

"Is that why she moved in here with your family?" Jennifer inquired.

Matilda nodded. "I didn't think she would. Mum always said she'd never let it happen, cos she wouldn't be able to stand having Nanna right under her nose all the time. But she didn't have the money to stay where she was and we were worried about her being by herself."

"How did you feel about her moving in?" Jennifer was slowly getting to her point.

She shrugged listlessly, tiring of the questions already. "It was ok. I didn't want her to sell her old house, but she had to. I really miss that place." She stared out the window at the rain for a few moments before turning back to Jennifer and asking a question or two of her own. "Why haven't you caught who did this yet? Why are you asking me this stuff?" she frowned, wanting answers.

Jennifer straightened her file in front of her, unsure for a second of how to answer. "We're just trying to get the whole picture here," she smiled in a way she hoped was reassuring and not threatening. She pushed her chair out and excused herself from the informal interview. She headed out into the kitchen and down the hallway to the living room where Matt sat questioning Nash Bond.

"Sorry to interrupt," she butted in, getting Matt's attention with some intricate eye contact. He rose from his cane chair immediately, allowing it to creak from the effort embarrassingly, and headed over to where Jennifer stood. He bent his head towards hers, keeping half an eye on Nash as he sat frowning on another cane chair.

"These kids are definitely hiding something," he whispered to her urgently. He knew he was right, and definitely onto something. Jennifer guessed he'd been questioning Nash a whole lot tougher than what she had been doing with Matilda. She wondered if the approach worked. "But I think we should leave it for now, let them sweat it out." Jennifer nodded in agreement and returned to the dining room to say goodbye.

Matilda sat dejectedly in her chair, cleaning under her nails. She looked up when Jennifer entered the room again and raised her eyebrows. "That's all we need from you right now Matilda," Jennifer smiled, trying to keep it light. "But we'll be back later to talk with your parents, once they're back from the funeral home." Matilda nodded and watched Jennifer exit the room again.

Back out in the car Matt was pumped with confidence that they were on the right track. She admired his unwavering enthusiasm in his work and the way he always stood by everything he thought, never questioning himself or second guessing. She wished she could be so confident with her policing. It was not always that way, and she hate that it took away from the strong and tough person she'd always believed herself to be.

She nodded and smiled at his certainties and tried to think of the next step in this case of theirs. What were they going to ask the parents about? As she pondered this, a silver Commodore zoomed past them, going up the street as they were going down. Jennifer recognised it as Mitch Bond's car and told Matt so. "They're back from the funeral place sooner than I thought," he mused as he did a whopping u-turn at the end of the street and went back up towards the house they'd just left.

They pulled in right behind Sandy and Mitch Bond as they were getting out of the car. The couple seemed to regard the Homicide detectives wearily, and ordinarily Jennifer might think this suspicious, but she felt such an overwhelming sense of sympathy for what they were going through that she dismissed it as the faces and attitudes of people who had just organised how to bury a loved one. It would make anyone look weary, she decided.

Moments later they were seated in the formal lounge room of the Bond family home. Sandy and Mitch sat deeply in their chairs, sunk into the soft pink leather cushions that padded out the two seater while Jennifer and Matt sat on the edge of the seats opposite them, ready to fire questions at the unsuspecting couple. Jennifer decided to start on a soft note.

"What is Matilda studying at university?" she asked politely.

Sandy smiled a half smile and ran a hand through the blonde hair that matched her daughters. "Journalism," she answered quickly, not surrendering anymore.

"Is she enjoying it?" Jennifer pressed.

Mitch shrugged. "We think so," he said.

Sandy finished the sentence for him. "Matilda deals with a lot all at once these days, and it's not easy for her. She's been through some tough times in the last few years."

"What has happened?" Matt asked the obvious question that was burning up inside of Jennifer, but which she didn't have the balls to ask.

"So many things," Sandy replied tiredly. "She's been sick herself, a friend of hers killed herself last year, my mother was sick all the time, she's had boyfriend troubles, crashed her car, struggled sometimes with uni…the list goes on. But she sticks it out. She's strong." Somewhere in there Sandy Bond sounded proud of her daughter, even if it didn't show on her face.

"Did Matilda confide in Rose very much?" Jennifer asked.

"Not really. When she was younger yes, but not after she became a teenager," Sandy answered. "She doesn't like illness, it makes her feel uncomfortable."

Jennifer nodded and looked at Matt, processing the information. Another theory was starting to form in her head.

Ten minutes later Matt and Jennifer were again outside, getting into the unmarked car to return to base. As they walked down the front path and onto the driveway, Matilda shoved her key into the lock of the drivers door of a rusty Datsun Sunny, turning the key impatiently, jiggling the lock to get the door open. Jennifer decided to take the opportunity to catch her alone again.

"Hey Matilda," she smiled, approaching with her folder clutched to her chest.

"Hey," she replied with little effort. She looked over Jennifer's shoulder for a second and it made Jennifer turn around to see what was behind her. There was nothing but Nash, leaning tensely against the brick archway by the front door, watching the two women speak. His presence behind her made her feel uncomfortable, and she turned her attention back to Matilda to ease the feeling.

"You off to a lecture now?" Jennifer asked innocently.

"Ahhhh yeah," she answered, as if only just deciding that very second that she would go to her lecture. "And I'm running late, so I'll see you later." She hopped into the drivers seat and started up the old car before trundling across the lawn and onto the street.

"Drive safe," Jennifer called as Matilda sped away. She turned and headed back to Matt, disappointed. They got in the car and reversed back onto the street as well. "Did she give you anything?" Matt asked, as he indicated to turn left out of the quiet street.

Jennifer thumped her thigh with her fist angrily. "No dammit. I so want to break her, get her to trust me and open up, but she just won't." She stared out the window, feeling a little defeated. She fiddled with the stiff collar of her shirt as she leant her elbow on the window sill.

"I reckon that brother of hers is holding her back a bit," Matt quipped. "Did you see that death stare he gave you?" Jennifer nodded, fully aware of the feeling again of being watched like a hawk.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Back at the office, Jennifer was ready to go home, if for nothing else than to make it look like she wasn't just going home, alone, again, and therefore not appear as pathetic as she feared Matt saw her. Rushing off as if she had somewhere super important to be made her feel a bit better. She couldn't get their case off her mind either, and knew that she needed some time to think about it without any distractions, to try and figure out a loop hole within her suspects and theories. Something had to give.

She and Matt took the lift back down to the foyer and parted ways without saying much more than a goodbye. She drove away in one direction and he in another and Jennifer was too focussed on staying alive on the road than wondering what Matt was doing for the moment, so spent the next twenty minutes giving her fullest concentration to the road. Once home and comfortable at the kitchen table though, her notes spread out in front of her, a coffee within easy reach, she surprised herself by how much she couldn't focus on her work. It wasn't because she was thinking about Matt, because she wasn't, it was just because the silence engulfed her and tempted her mind to drift too much, and she really began to wonder if being alone was a good idea if she wanted to solve the case.

She looked at her phone and wondered if she should call him – maybe to ask for his advice? But she didn't dial his number, nor send him a text. Forcing herself to concentrate, she hunched over the notes, trying to drink all the information in.

It didn't work, and after three separate trips to the bathroom, bedroom and living room Jennifer gave up and threw her scarf and coat on again and made her way back to the office, hoping that the industrious nature of the place would help her out with solving this case. As she made her way there under the glowing streetlights and damp trees that hung lifelessly, cold in the Melbourne city streets, their leaves barely attached for all the wind that blew, she wondered about the complexities of the Bond family. She tried to remember back to when she had been 19, and how she had acted and spoken. What had she been like then? Anything like the tortured soul that was Matilda? She seriously doubted that personal experience could help her to relate to the young girl, which only made the job harder to crack. Feeling annoyed at what felt like her expertise and professionalism melting away, out of her reach, she stomped into the Homicide building, flashing her security card at the desk as she made her way to the lifts.

She stood impatiently in the lift as its doors droned closed slowly and it took its time getting up to her floor. She had to resist the urge to tap her foot or look at her watch, and the only thing that made her stop was the light that seeped into the small space in which she stood once she got closer to her floor, shining in through the tiny cracks where the doors sealed. She cocked her head at no one, and her brow furrowed as she curiously waited for the lift to allow her out.

A single desk light shone in the small office, lighting up more than one would expect, hence her being able to see it from the elevator. It was Matt's desk, and as Jennifer walked past it she noticed his computer on and papers strewn willy nilly over the matte laminex of the black desk.

"Jen!" Matt stopped abruptly at the door to the kitchette, and a few drops of his coffee sloshed out of the mug he was holding with his sudden halt.

Jennifer felt some déjà vu for a second as the coffee stained the carpet at his feet. Just like at Little Nero's she cursed herself for not wearing anything better, or taking more care in her appearance. She should've known she'd run into him here. On a side note she liked the fact that they were working as a team together on this case and that he was putting in as much effort as her. As she'd always felt, when they talked shop, they connected. Even when they disagreed with each other.

"Hey," she smiled, the move coming to her without even a first thought, as if driven by pure desire.

"What are you doing back here?" he asked her, walking past her and back to his swivel chair just metres away.

"I could ask the same of you," she replied, hesitant about where to park herself – was sharing a desk with him going too far? Or should she just pull up a chair in the desk next to his?

Matt set his coffee down and rubbed at his eyes. His tired movements directly corresponded with the way she felt inside about this case, about him, about everything. It was so frustrating. She wanted to crack it all. He looked back up at her. "I just think there's got to be some giveaway thing in these interview statements. Something that tells us who was responsible."

She knew what he meant, and decided to go with her first option and swung herself over in her chair to be beside him so that she could see his notes. "I know," she said, studying the print outs and photographs. "I keep drawing a blank, and it makes me wonder if it even was anyone we're thinking of. Maybe it really was Joe Blogs off the street."

Matt seemed a little frozen next to her for a few moments, but quickly diverted his attention back to their work in an effort to not embarrass himself. Jennifer could sense his nervousness and it made her feel a little lighter and happier with herself as they sat and discussed the case into the wee hours. She got the distinct feeling he was not as serious about Emma as he once had been, therefore didn't mind at all that she had sidled up so close to him.

By 2am Matt's desk was littered with almost more empty coffee cups than it was with files. They sleepily read over interview transcripts again and again, no closer to who the killer of Rose Crawley was, but filled with new ideas and plans they had worked on together. Two heads were definitely better than one, and Jennifer was glad she'd come in and not stayed at home and procrastinated.

Matt looked at his watch as he put down his sheaf of papers. Without even thinking he grabbed Jennifer by the arm and looked at her with shock. In response she looked first at his hand holding her arm and then up into his eyes. "Jen it's 2am!" he gasped, not realising how long they had been working. He smiled a little at the revelation as she smiled with him. They quickly gathered their things and made for the exit, leaving Matt's desk in disarray, knowing they would be back first thing to move on with the case.

Out in the foyer, the few streetlights that remained on outside shone thin streaks of light into the building and cast ghostly cold shadows on anything in their path. His brave persona on tonight, Matt stuck close beside Jennifer as they made their ways to the exit. "I'll walk you to your car," he insisted, smiling at her in the near darkness. She nodded, crossing her arms over her chest in a bid to keep warm. She felt safe and at ease as they walked to where she was parked and tried not to let her imagination run away with her when she noticed she no longer felt cold as she unlocked her car door. Matt stood at the edge of her bay as she started up the car and reversed out. Driving away, he gave her a small wave and wandered back to his own car.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

As Jennifer entered Homicide later that morning, she walked straight into Simon having a go at Matt. They stood at his desk, Matt trying to shrug off his jacket, as Simon goaded him about the mess he'd left just hours earlier and what he'd 'really' been doing. Not fully getting Simon's insinuations, Matt stumbled with his answers, unknowingly pulling off innocent and cute so well, Jennifer thought.

"Jen and I were just working on the Crawley case," he explained, trying to sound as tough as Simon, but not succeeding. Jennifer smiled as she walked up to them.

"Really…" Simon smirked, having a chuckle. "You and Jen hey?" he said, eyeing her as she approached. He patted Matt on the shoulder. "Get a lot done did ya?" He laughed as he folded his arms and waited for Matt to stumble again, embarrassed at the mocking.

"Oh yeah," Matt nodded enthusiastically, still dumb to what Simon really meant. "Heaps!"

Simon just laughed as he walked away, leaving Jennifer standing right where she had been seated the night before. She smiled at him as he looked at her, just a little confused. "You're so cute," she said quietly, grinning at him and bending over and gathering some of her notes from his desk. She felt bad at the same time though as she too, in a way, was teasing Matt. But it helped to disguise everything else she really felt, so she kept the sympathetic smile on her face.

Matt just stood beside her, flushed pink and not knowing where to turn next. Jennifer slapped him on the back and encouraged him to follow her. "Come on, let's go talk to Matilda's boyfriend." He nodded quickly and made a hasty exit in embarrassment.

They found Jack Fey at home, not far from the Bond's place, getting ready for work. He bustled around the house, seeming hurried, and Jennifer and Matt had to work hard to keep up with him as he moved from room to room, ironing his uniform, finishing the dishes, turning off the television, closing the curtains, combing his hair and packing his bag.

But he revealed more than either of the detectives thought he would. "She's unhappy," he said, after they asked him about Matilda. "She's an unhappy person…at least nowadays. That's why we broke up."

Jennifer blinked her eyes in shock a few times, doing a double take. She didn't know their relationship status was in the dirt. That hadn't been in the case notes she'd read a thousand times. She looked at Matt, slightly alarmed. "When did you break up?" Matt asked, as curious as Jennifer.

Jack ran an old iron smoothly over his work uniform, and for a second Jennifer tried to imagine he and Matilda together as a couple. Aesthetically they fitted together perfectly, being very pleasing to the eye on the surface, but the way in which Jack seemed to live, on time and organised, mature and level headed, didn't fit in with what she had encountered with Matilda at all. She wondered if the break up had thrown Matilda into more disarray than anyone realised, the calming effect of Jack now gone from her life.

"A couple of weeks ago," he replied. He sat down on the couch for a moment to tie the laces of his shiny black shoes. He breathed out, letting out a sigh that radiated his unwillingness to divulge any personal information about Matilda. But he did anyway, perhaps realising that if the police were on his doorstep, something was up, and something had to be done. "I felt pretty bad. It was a bad time to break up with her with her Nanna being so ill and uni just being so crap for her and everything, but I couldn't put it off any longer. I didn't want to do it, but I just had to." He genuinely looked ashamed of himself, and Jennifer almost wanted to reach out and give him a squeeze in reassurance.

"So Matilda was having trouble at uni was she?" Jennifer asked, switching her mind back to the job.

"Big time. She was distracted by so many things, and she just couldn't concentrate," he replied. "When she did get things done, she always thought that they were crap and she'd fail anyway."

"And she didn't turn to you for help with that? Or her parents?" Matt asked.

"I tried to help her," Jack answered, his eyes still watching the ground. "I did everything I could, but something is really up. And her parents…they're the ones who always expected her to go and do that degree. She never did it because she wanted to. She was just feeling the pressure from all corners of the ring. And she didn't deal with it all that well. She always said things only got harder as she grew up."

Jennifer and Matt nodded earnestly, absorbing all the information. Jack stood up and made his way to the front door where he had greeted the detectives just 20 minutes before. "I've gotta get to work, sorry," he stated, opening the door and hustling them outside and onto the concrete walk, strangled with weeds.

The two detectives watched him drive away in a little blue Laser that coughed all the way down the street and around the corner. Jennifer looked at Matt, concern for Matilda in her eyes. "I think I'm starting to see what you were talking about," she confessed to him.

"Told you so," he smiled as they got back into their car. Before Matt started the engine they pondered where to head next.

"I feel like we should go and check on Matilda, make sure she's all right," Jennifer suggested. "The more I hear about her the more I think everyone is right. Something's wrong."

"And maybe if we do see her we'll get something else out of her," Matt added. They headed for the Bond residence.

As they approached Jennifer spotted Mitch mowing the lawn sombrely. He lazied up and down the grass, slowly pushing the heavy hunk of cutting metal in front of him, his attention not all on the job. Matt pulled up at the kerb and Jennifer wound down her window and stuck her head out, sheltering her eyes from the brief moments of sun that had erupted from the sky that morning.

"Mr Bond," she called. "Is Matilda home?"

He looked up dazedly and shook his head. "She's at work – Boost Juice Southbank."

It was all the information Jennifer needed, and they sped away to their next destination. But their luck seemed to be fading as quickly as the sun was from the sky, in typical Melbourne fashion.

A mousey brunette with fruit stains all over her black shirt shook her head annoyingly at the detectives when they asked to see Matilda. "She didn't show up today – I tell you what, it's her last strike. She's gone. She doesn't even call anymore to chuck a sickie!" The woman was thoroughly annoyed but her anger left Matt and Jennifer more clueless than ever. They thanked her for her time and left the store dejectedly.

"So where the hell is she?" Matt posed the question to Jennifer as they walked back to their car, parked on the side of the road. Opening her door in the quick moment that there was a break in the traffic, Jennifer slipped in and closed the door quickly behind her. She frowned, beginning to get a headache from what she could only imagine was her own frustration and the complete truckload of dead ends they'd got today. Her only hope was to pin down Jack Fey again and hope to get more out of him. She was sure he'd be super pleased to see them twice in one day.

Jack Fey worked in a bustling inner city café, and because it was lunchtime, the place was hopping. His polished exterior, with his shiny shoes, spiked black hair, crisp white shirt, and his left arm behind his back politely as he waited on tables and customers was beginning to look a little tarnished. He was going so fast Jennifer noticed, that he might as well have been wearing rollerskates. She managed to snag him only when another employee showed up to begin his shift, relieving some of the pressure on the young 21 year old.

Jennifer decided to be stern in the hope it would get results. "Look, we can't find Matilda. She's not at home, she's not at work. Do you think something may've happened to her?" she probed.

"What do you mean, _happened?_" Jack asked alarmed.

"Well where is she? Where would she have gone? Did she have a place she liked to go to be alone? A place you two went to together even?" Jennifer asked, desperate for answers as Matt hung back and watched with admiration.

But Jack Fey was clueless and flustered at the sudden dangerousness of the situation. "I don't know! I don't know!" he confessed. "We liked to go to the park by my house sometimes, just to sit. She used to say that it reminded her of the peacefulness of her Nanna's old place."

Something inside of Jennifer suddenly clicked and she knew that they were finally on the right track.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Matt and Jennifer hurried back to the station to fill Wolfe in on what their next plan of attack was. He was curious as to what was taking up so much of their time and wanted to be involved. But they had little time to tell him the entire story. Suddenly the most important thing wasn't finding Rose Crawley's killer, but finding an emotionally unstable young girl who was dangling between her own misery and demons – a potentially dangerous place to be dangling. Jennifer worried about Matilda's welfare and knew they could waste no time in finding her. Within fifteen minutes they were back out on the road again, Stanley and Matt discussing the case at length in the backseat as Jennifer drove towards the park Jack had mentioned that was just a short walk from his place. She paused only momentarily by the park's entrance to let the two men out, insisting to them that she should go on ahead to Rose Crawley's now deserted former home several suburbs away. Jennifer was so determined and agitated by the fact that Matilda could be in trouble that the two men didn't even try to argue with her, only promising to meet her there as soon as they'd finished scoping the park.

Jennifer sped away. Approaching the Crawley property, Jennifer felt apprehensive of what she might find there, but didn't slow her speed in getting there. She was soon at the entrance to the home, which sat right on the borderline between city and country for Victoria. It surprised her though how much Jennifer suddenly felt like she was in a quiet, peaceful place, and the buzz of the city streets and buildings and cars and people was just a few streets away. It was like a paradise in the most unexpected of places.

She parked and climbed out of the car and approached the white wooden gate that stood in the way of entering the driveway up to the house. She noted the shaded sign by the mailbox – the hushed silence of the unloved property was aptly named Nashilda, a sweet combination of Rose's grandchildren that really suited the fairytale feeling of the place – and breathed in the uplifting scent of the fresh air that still blanketed the place, despite its lack of human life there anymore. She pushed open the gate and walked the twenty or so metres to the front verandah, the tiny stones of gravel crackling underneath her feet with every step.

As she climbed the stairs to the front door, Nash appeared from around the eastern end of the verandah, looking ashen. "Nash!" Jennifer couldn't hide her surprise at seeing him there – she wanted to find Matilda, but she still expected this place to be empty – and approached with caution. "Is everything all right?" she asked worriedly.

He looked at her but didn't reply. His lack of talking made her nervous and she felt the need to ask even more questions. "Is Matilda here?" she asked gently, getting closer to where he stood by the rainwater tank.

"Nah," he muttered, still locked in eye contact with her with a steely, unforgiving glance. It made her shudder inwardly, but she was careful not to let it show. She wondered for a quick second what to do – should she wait for Stanley and Matt to arrive, or should she push on, knowing time was of the essence, and try to get as much out of Nash as she could? Did he know where Matilda was?

Jennifer was at his side now and decided to plough ahead. She jumped the short distance back on to the grass from the wooden verandah and Nash followed her. They wandered side by side down past the house and into the sprawling back garden. "This place is really beautiful," Jennifer volunteered. She wasn't lying at least – it really was – and she envied Nash and his life growing up here. It was like the setting of a storybook with its towering gums and sweet smelling flowers, all getting their bit of your senses.

As suddenly as he had appeared on the verandah, Nash whipped out a small but glistening knife and sat it against Jennifer's throat. She gasped unsteadily, feeling her breathing quicken in an instant, and eyed the knife's blade. There was little doubt in her mind that it was as sharp as hell and that he wasn't afraid to use it. He pulled her left hand behind her back as she used her right to hold onto his knife wielding hand. They struggled, but he was stronger than she expected, and he succeeded easily in shoving her in the direction of a stable at the edge of the property.

Nash kicked open the door with his foot as Jennifer struggled under his hold. She knew there was no way of getting away without something of her own being slashed and she certainly didn't want that. Her mind darted for a few seconds to every hope and dream she'd ever had and everything she'd yet to do with her life. She wasn't ready yet. She hadn't done it all. There were so many things – and people – she still wanted to make right and the thought of not being able to do them felt like a pain carved on the bone. A tear slipped out of the corner of her eye and disappeared into the bright red of her jacket. Nash failed to notice as he leant against the open door frame, still holding the knife menacingly at her throat. His strength was ever present in his actions, but she noticed immediately as he began to speak that the strength in his voice was waning.

She stood uncomfortably in front of him, still held down with the threat of the knife, unable to make a getaway. "Look at this place," he whispered harshly in her ear. She felt the warmth of his breath, his heartbeat almost in his mouth with fear and tension at what situation he had just created. "You were right. It is beautiful. And it's mine. And Matilda's." He gave a little strangled cry as he spoke of his sister. "This is our place. This was the place we came every weekend, every school holidays. We grew up here." He was speaking through gritted teeth now.

She tugged and pulled away from his hold in what she thought might've been a moment of weakness for him, but he wouldn't let up. Instead he shoved her head in the direction of the view, making her take in their surroundings and realise what he was referring to. "This is what we lost, when everything was taken away from us! It's not fair! Who wouldn't want a childhood here?" he ranted.

"We all want to turn back the clock ten years Nash," Jennifer garbled, hardly able to speak.

We're all a little broken

Hoping to get closer

She felt him tense up in anger. "But we shouldn't have had this taken away from us! This is why Matilda is so lost, this is why she killed Nanna! She never meant to, but we lost everything when we couldn't come here anymore. This was the only place we felt safe, confident, loved, valued, smart. This was our life! Now we've got nothing!"

"You still have each other Nash," Jennifer volunteered, trying to think of anything to calm the situation.

"No we don't!" he screeched, moving them to a hard, splintered panel of wood that sat atop two milk crates. He wrenched her down to sitting, keeping the blade steady against her. She wanted to vomit at the feeling of it so close to her skin, knowing just millimetres could spell the end of her. "You're going to take Mattie away now, don't bullshit me! She's killed someone!" he hollered. As if on cue, Matilda walked dumbfounded and disillusioned into the rickety old building that now housed little more than household junk and a few bales of hay. Nash was so dumbfounded at his sister's appearance that he didn't seem to notice the squealing of tires and the crunching of gravel outside.

"Matilda," Jennifer exclaimed, knowing her moment would come soon. She hurried on as the girl took a seat where Jennifer and Nash had been standing only moments before, and leant her back up against the door frame, looking out into the distance, tears in her eyes as the pressure toppled out and washed over her body like a wave. "Matilda," Jennifer said again, trying to get her attention. "Nash thinks that he's not going to see you anymore." She looked hard at the forlorn creature. "But it's not true," she hoped she was getting Nash's attention as well. "We can work something out." She would say anything to get herself out of this predicament. Anything.

But it was like they both hadn't even heard her. Matilda turned to her brother and frowned. "What the hell are you doing Nash?" she asked him pathetically. "It's gone. We can't get this life back now. It's over." Jennifer was relieved that Matilda seemed slightly less crazy than Nash. Things were looking up. "Let her go. I'm gonna go to jail whether we keep her here or not."

"Nash, put down the knife!" The voice of Matt Ryan cut through the silence and Jennifer released a breath she didn't realise she'd been holding. It was all it took to get Nash to surrender, completely defeated inside and out, just like his sister. Matt, Simon and Duncan pounced on the siblings, putting an end to the terrifying siege. Stanley swooped in and took Jennifer under his wing, escorting her out of the barn quick smart, without a second glance back at her colleagues or those they'd been chasing. He led her all the way to the unmarked car that sat at the entrance to Nashilda and deposited her inside, knowing she needed to be calm and feel safe after the ordeal she'd just had.

She sat dumbfounded and breathing hard in the backseat, staring straight ahead of her at nothing. Within moments Duncan and Simon passed with Matilda and Nash in their clutches and Stanley climbed into the front seat. He started up the car quickly and as he pulled his seatbelt across his body, the back door opposite Jennifer's opened and Matt slipped in to sit beside her. They didn't look at each other, but as Stanley drove away from the property, Matt placed his hand on top of Jennifer's where it sat still on the middle seat. He held it tight all the way back to Homicide, consoling her silently.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

As the car slowed to a stop in the carpark, Jennifer finally connected gazes with Matt. The look in her eyes made him hurt a little inside. She looked so crest fallen, so devastated, so disappointed and still so frightened all at once. "I didn't do anything," she whispered, her voice wobbling. "I should've tried harder with Matilda. I barely even got her one on one…if I did…I could've changed all of this. But I couldn't do it…I didn't do it," she was not so much explaining her feelings to Matt as reprimanding herself for what she felt was failure on her part. Matt looked back at her welled up eyes, wanting to say something supportive and positive, but at that moment he lacked the words. Jennifer got gingerly out of the car, her hand slipping out from underneath Matt's, and her stare away from his.

Ever caring of his young charges, Stanley again whisked Jennifer away from any interference before she could be properly taken care of and debriefed. He made her coffee as they waited silently for the police psychologist in his office – Stanley was not taking any risks of the days events permanently scarring one of his best officers. But as Jennifer sipped absentmindedly at her coffee she knew it was too late – she was definitely scarred from the experience, not just from today, but from the past week, and knew nothing could help her. She only wanted to see and speak to one person. The one person she knew might have a chance, and might want to have a go, at helping her to feel normal again and reassuring her that the way she felt like she had lost all of her expertise in this job was only temporary.

When she arrived, the police psychologist had nothing to say that she hadn't heard before, and didn't suggest any ways to help herself that she knew would work for her or that she hadn't already tried on previous occasions. She was in post traumatic shock but had control of herself enough to give all the right answers in all the right places that allowed her to be released from the claustrophobia of her boss's office as quickly as possible. Talking to a psychologist never worked during times like this – coppers just didn't work that way, they were still stuck in the seventies, where really, the only way to make it better was to numb the pain somehow, usually down at the pub. You could forget, at least momentarily, what had happened to you, with alcohol. The only other thing that worked was if you had someone to go home to. That was almost as good as the pub with your workmates. Jennifer knew she probably needed a little of both, but hoped that she would get the one she felt she needed the most. She was struck in her daze at the realisation that she'd been given her chance to do everything she'd wanted – the chance that afternoon she came so close to losing. So she was going to do it.

Jennifer walked slowly from Stanley's office, leaving the psychologist to do the paperwork and wonder if she'd helped the latest victim of a closer than comfortable policing day. As Jennifer exited, Matt sprang up from his spot on the edge of Duncan's desk, where he had been waiting patiently for her for the last hour and approached her unsteady self. They stood in front of each other for a few moments and Matt wondered for a second what to do: did this situation call for him to put a blanket around her shoulders the way he had done once before? Or would she be understandably stubborn, like any other copper would be, and brush off any offer of help?

Before he could make up his mind she fell into his arms in a hug they both needed and wanted so badly. It was something different though than last time – she held onto him for dear life, her head in his shoulder, instead of crashing into the depths of his chest the way she had after she'd been held hostage in the office. He held her tightly in an effort to quell her fears and reassure her that her ordeal was over, at the same time as benefitting himself and his own ordeal, short lived as it was, that he had experienced when confronted with a scene before him that included the one person he never wanted to lose with a knife held to her throat. He had come inexplicably close to losing her and so it felt reassuring beyond belief that he could hold her at this moment, safe.

I wish…this could last forever

He went to pull away, to brush her tears away, or smooth her hair, but she held on tighter than ever, whispering into the infinite space that existed between them: "Don't let go." And so he held her as she began to breathe normally again, at last able to let out everything she had been holding in, saving it for the only person she knew could understand and the only person she wanted to see after being held back by protocol for what was surely hours. They stood linked together in the quiet office, the first streaks of night beginning to invade the tenth floor.

One more murmur

Whispered through her tears


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Matt lingered in the carpark after Jennifer left, not knowing what to do with himself. Most of him wished he had just taken her home himself, not let her convince him that she would be fine to drive, and fine alone in her little house, fine in the night time, fine with no one to keep her company. He knew she wouldn't be fine. How could she? He hastily unlocked his car door and slipped inside, starting up the engine and roaring out of the complex.

He made a quick detour home first, eager to shake off his suit jacket and splash some water on his face. The entire day had been nitty and gritty and oh so uncomfortable, and that was just how he felt. He shuddered as he thought back to the very second he knew something was wrong – the very second he knew the park was not the right place to be, and that Jennifer was in trouble. Stanley had not been so concerned, confident in Jennifer's abilities in any situation, and had reprimanded Matt for his speedy driving towards the Crawley property, but Matt had put his foot down all the same.

I should have known better

Than to let you go alone

When they had got there, the silence of the place scared him somewhat, and a convulsion of terrible things that might've happened to his colleague ripped through his head in a dizzying flash as he got out of the car and approached the property's entrance. It was only then that Stanley seemed to feel the same sort of fear for Jennifer's safety as he did, and Matt knew it was the same silence that had got to his boss that had got to him. At least if there was noise – gun shots, screaming, talking, anything – you knew what was going on and what had happened. But with silence there was nothing. Just a torturous period of not knowing a single damned thing. And trying to end that period was always what made your heart stop beating for a second.

I can't wait to see you again

The place was as empty as it was silent as he and Stanley scanned the property and kept one ear trained for the sound of Duncan and Simon pulling up. The property reeked of happy families and smiling children, despite it having been deserted for some time. It wasn't a feeling Matt was familiar with, nor comfortable with, as it hadn't been how his childhood had played out. But it didn't mean he couldn't understand completely the utter allure of the place to children, and a huge desire to stay in the shiny little bubble forever. He couldn't blame Matilda and her brother for being so desperate to hang on to this fairytale, especially when the adult world threw you curve balls everyday of the week.

Approaching a barn in a state of disrepair, Matt suddenly felt that he was no longer without the company of others. As he edged closer, Stanley just meters away and noticing Matt's slower pace and hesitancy, he pressed his ear to a crack in the wooden planks that made up the building. Inside he heard the unmistakable voice of Jennifer, although her tone was laced with a waver he had never heard before from her, and it was this new sound in her voice that made him even more afraid.

He quickly signalled to Stanley, and pistols at the ready, they waited just a flurry of seconds as Duncan and Simon sprang from their car and bolted to where the two men stood by one of the barn's many entrances. Without saying a word to each other, the four men, a true team, knew exactly how to handle the situation, and pounced. Simon kicked open the door, sending it crashing backwards and hitting the wall behind with a force that seemed to shake the entire place. The other three hurried inside, Matt in the lead, his gun pointed wildly at anything that moved until he got his bearings and knew exactly what he was confronted with.

What met his eyes first was Matilda, sitting quietly in the doorway, and Nash, standing over a huddled figure a top some milk crates. He stood over her so menacingly and with such stature that it took him a few seconds to realise that Jennifer was hidden there, in this crazy young man's shadow. She was unscathed, not even a smudge of dirt on her delicate face, but she looked frightened in a way that sent Matt's last meal heaving in somersaults in his stomach.

I need you by my side

To tell me it's all right

"Nash put down the knife!" Matt yelled, pointing his gun squarely at the tragically broken boy. He was quick to surrender, much to Matt's relief, and released his grip on their colleague without a word. The level of hatred and fury Matt felt towards Nash as he and Simon bundled him to the ground distracted Matt from aiding Stanley in picking up a terrified Jennifer, and before he knew it she was gone from the building. Nash yelped and cried pathetically as they pulled him to his feet, squirming in their hold and making walking difficult. Simon gave a disciplinary yell after a few moments, which quieted him, but Jennifer was still long gone by the time they were outside again, Duncan bringing up the rear with Matilda.

As Duncan deposited Matilda into a car, rain began to drizzle down on them, falling high from the heavens and sweeping a blanket of refreshing relief over the group. It was over. The two siblings didn't speak a word to each other as doors were closed and engines started up. Matt felt the rain cleanse him of his fear at last as he looked around for a spare seat in any of the cars to hop into. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Stanley's head disappear into the car they had been driving less than fifteen minutes earlier, and without thinking, he ran for that car, knowing Jennifer would be inside.

He hopped in just in time, and placed his hand over hers, not knowing what else to do. She looked frozen out the window, her limbs lifeless and chilled with fear still, and didn't respond to his touch. So he just squeezed tighter, so admiring of her gallantry.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Her on his mind, he went a little faster as he changed, darting around the house, grabbing what he needed and dumping what he didn't. Emma was the furtherest thing from his mind, so when she appeared at the bedroom door, fresh home from work drinks, he almost fell over in surprise.

"Hey," he volunteered, rattled and feeling unusually uncomfortable around her. He knew immediately that his conscience was biting away at him, reminding him of all the fear and relief he had felt for another woman today. Of all the times he hadn't thought of his live in girlfriend or their relationship. Of all the times he'd thought that he just wouldn't know what to do if something had happened to Jen. Emma had been so far from his thoughts, further than far even, that he felt guilty at how little he was prepared to reveal to her as they stood in the bedroom.

And she noticed straight away, giving him a puzzled, wary look, a lot meaner looking than she had ever looked before – usually she was so cheerful and helpful, so understanding and nice, and it made him realise that he was going to have to think of a really good lie to get away tonight. But something inside compelled him to act fast and just go – his concern for his colleague he supposed – and he dished out a story to Emma about having to go back to the office to meet with Stanley. Emma and his work had never, ever mixed before, and he never wanted it to, so it worked well in a way, in that she backed right off and didn't question why he would need to have a meeting with his boss at 8:30 at night. She looked mystified at his eagerness to leave the house again, but fully expected him home within an hour or two. He, on the other hand, was not so sure he would be so quick – he knew days like today coppers could never really 'get over' and a few hours of drinking and talking barely made a dent, but were essential all the same.

And then, despite this knowledge in his head he knew to be overwhelmingly true, he fronted up to Jennifer's house without any kind of alcoholic beverage under his arm, nor a block of chocolate, or takeaway. Just himself. He didn't know what else to offer, or even if he was enough to help her, but he knocked on the door nonetheless, feeling uncomfortable in the darkness that enveloped him on the verandah.

And I can't wait to see you again

So I can hold you in my arms

She hadn't turned her front light on – did that mean she wasn't home, he wondered. He knocked again. Finally, he heard footsteps padding to the door quickly, and the lock being twisted and turned open.

Jennifer's face appeared shadowed over as she opened the door for him. He was surprised at how well she actually looked – the shadows were just the night time, not a reflection of her feelings – and he felt stupid immediately for thinking she would ever look any other way. She was one brave girl. The people who had been responsible for the frightening events of the day were well and truly away from her now, so she didn't need to be afraid anymore. And she obviously wasn't as she opened the door all the way to greet him. She smiled and said hello, but as he walked in he noticed that while she didn't look afraid, she still had her work clothes on, and they were all rumpled, as if she had been sleeping. He would've thought she'd want to get those clothes off instantly. He wondered if she'd been too busy crying her eyes out to change her clothes, but her eyes told him otherwise. He wondered how she had kept her composure, even when alone. Most people wouldn't have been able to.

They stood awkwardly for the briefest of seconds in her entry way before he put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close to him in what was more a friendly squeeze than anything like what they'd shared earlier in the day. He just wasn't sure if he should be offering anything more than a friendly squeeze. Was he seriously in love with her? Or was it all just borne out of a fear for her safety today? Or, was it that fear that had bought his true feelings into the open? Did they need an event like this to happen to show their true colours? He honestly didn't have a clue.

As they walked towards her kitchen, he smiled at her as she allowed herself to be hugged. "You all right?" he asked seriously, unable to disguise the mountains of concern that were layered in his voice.

"Yeah," she said quietly, not looking at him. "What are you doing here?"

"Just wanted to check you were ok," he revealed, slightly embarrassed. "Didn't think you should be by yourself." They sat down at Jennifer's tiny kitchen table and looked at each other.

She smiled appreciatively and dropped her head to the side. "Thanks," she answered, feeling better already that he was there. Part of her had been expecting him and part of her hadn't and similarly part of her wanted him there and part of her didn't, but now that he was here she felt she should make an effort to do something, say something, be someone, other than what she always was when they worked together. Things had changed today – nothing was the way it used to be, and none of the old rules applied. But she was still in such shock over what she had been through that the majority of her mind just wasn't thinking straight. She thought back to how she had been so devastated in the barn that afternoon, at the thought of all her missed opportunities was she to lose her life at the hands of Nash Bond. She wanted to seize the day now – she had from the very moment they had pulled Nash away from her – but she was so unsure of how to, or if she should, or if she could. It was all such a mess inside her head, not helped either by the days events.

"Did you go to the hospital?" he asked. Before she even had the chance to answer he spoke again. "Do you want me to take you?" His concern touched her heart somewhere she didn't even know existed.

She shook her head. "Nah," she answered. "Seriously, I don't have a scratch on me. It's not necessary."

Matt looked deeply into her eyes, leaning forward across the table, the concern still all over his face. She didn't deliberately avoid his eyes, but she did get up and walk towards the kitchen counter behind Matt, her hands fleeting over the kettle, then the coffee tin and the mugs that sat beside it, and their gazes failed to connect. She stood motionless at the bench after just a few seconds, and Matt remained at the table, not knowing if he should follow her away from the table. Did she need to cry now? Was this the time? For all the gallantry she had shown today he knew she had just as much helplessness inside her as well. He got up and walked up to her, knowing he needed to scratch under that surface, just like Stanley had said, to find what was lurking there, dying to get out.

"Jen?" he said quietly, touching a finger to her cheek, silently asking her to look up. As she did, her composure shattered into tiny little pieces around her, leaving her standing in a pool of despair, utterly unable to get out without the help of someone who truly understood just why that trusty composure had broken.

I need you by my side

To tell me it's all right

Cos I don't think I can take anymore

He knew right then that she was right. She didn't need to go to the hospital. She just needed to talk to somebody. And _not_ a police psychologist.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

The tears rolled down her cheeks silently, her eyes distraught and welling over, as she stood in front of the one man she never expected to cry in front of, even though it had happened before. Those times she had never expected to lose it the way she had, but it had still happened, and she was always powerless to stop it. Still, she tried. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she blubbered in a whisper, her head drooped, her shoulders curved over.

It's times like these

I can't make it on my own

He pulled her to him and wrapped two big arms around her small and fragile frame. "Hey…" he said into her hair. "Don't be sorry Jen," he smoothed her hair with just a few strokes. Months ago, when he had held her in the carpark after she had been held hostage, she had misinterpreted what he had meant – whether on purpose or otherwise – and he had wondered what he needed to do to convince her to stay with him – not to walk away, not to mention Emma, not to just keep things strictly work related. If it was ever going to happen, now was the time, even though neither felt they had any control over it.

He kept an arm around her as he led her to the couch they had passed when she had greeted him at the door earlier and sat her down amongst the bulging cushions. She sat dejectedly upon them, and as he took a seat close beside her she didn't shuffle away uncomfortably, instead almost moving in closer, needing to be close to someone she trusted, and who, when he held her, made everything bad just dissolve away.

She couldn't seem to get any words out for all her tears, so it was he who spoke first, breaking the silence between them in the dimly lit room. "I was worried about you today," he admitted quietly, holding her hand.

She smiled a small smile, barely noticeable. "Where have I heard that before?" she asked, wiping at her tears with the back of her hand.

He smiled back in return. "No, I really was," he confirmed. He shook his head, looking away. "I can't believe I let you go there by yourself." He was so ashamed, and so mad at himself that it was now he who couldn't meet her eyes.

She didn't have an answer, instead being enveloped again in her own despair, her smile from just a second ago forgotten. He pulled her into him again, if for only his own benefit. "You did everything right today Jen," he whispered. "Everything right. Even if you don't feel like you did."

She leant back against the cushions, still in his arms and looked at him. "I was so angry at myself for not having clicked onto it earlier," she admitted. "But at the same time all I could think about while I was in that barn was everything I hadn't done and everything I hadn't said."

He pressed her for more, curious, even though a part of him knew what she meant already. "What did you wanna say?" he asked tentatively.

She shrugged, utterly clueless now that the opportunity to explain was before her. "I dunno…" she replied. "I just…I just I didn't want it to all end like that you know? I wanted to be able to see you again, like this, and just…for a while there I didn't think I'd get to." It was gibberish and she knew it, but it seemed to be coming out in a way that explained her feelings inside so well, and he seemed to be understanding. She was afraid of his reaction, especially given the precarious position they were currently in, but nothing happened to ruin the moment, and it all felt just so right. The awkwardness was gone, the embarrassment was gone, the shyness was gone. They were finally making a connection on a level that had nothing to do with work.

Matt sat beside her, flushed in the face a little at the closeness of their presence and the totally unguarded way in which they were speaking to each other. He didn't know what to say to her – what would sound right, what would sound sympathetic and understanding – but she didn't seem to mind. She smiled at him. "You're such a good listener," she said quietly, full of appreciation. She looked down at their linked hands, wondering how they had ever got to this point. When did this happen? When did it all change? Was this the right thing to be happening?

The feeling of everything in her life being out of her own control today – with Matilda, with the barn conversation, with Nash, with Matt, with her thoughts on her career – overwhelmed her suddenly and she fell silent beside him, slumping down a little more in her place on the couch. She didn't know if he would understand if she tried to tell him how she was feeling deep inside, so she kept it in, fighting off the tears and the uncertainty, just not sure if he would get it. Sure, they connected, but could he understand this much?

They sat in silence for a long time, still holding hands almost unconsciously, their link going unnoticed by the both of them. Matt felt it was a way to help Jennifer feel better. She felt it was a way to feel closer and more understood by her most trusted colleague. And that was what she needed right now, as she became more and more caught in a puzzle of self doubt.

He enjoyed sitting beside her. Somehow it felt like a turning point, and rightly so, because today had changed them both forever, he was sure. He didn't want to mention Emma to her…it would only complicate things that were already complicated enough. He didn't know what to do about it, but one thing he did know was that he couldn't go back to the way he had been with Emma, last month, last week, even yesterday, so he was content to just sit there with Jennifer, because right then it felt like the easiest thing in the world. They only faced and talked about what they wanted to.

They sat there for so long that it was past midnight when Matt finally looked at his watch. He wouldn't blame her if she had fallen asleep, but when he squinted and looked closely at her in the semi darkness, trying not to make it obvious, he noticed that she was still very much awake, her eyes unblinking and wide, reliving over and over again what had happened hours earlier. He wracked his brain for what to do – they could just sit here all night, but he felt it important that she sleep. However, it wasn't appropriate that he stay, on the couch, or anywhere else, which really did present him with a dilemma. He didn't want to leave her alone, and she hadn't moved for more than an hour, so she obviously didn't want to be alone either. Finally he concluded that he should go, and if she insisted, he could stay on the couch, but nowhere else. He eased himself up to the edge of the cushions.

She squirmed ever so slightly, cramped at having sat in such a position, however comfortable and cocoon like, for so long. She looked at him, knowing exactly what he was thinking. "I should get going," he said quietly to her. "You need to go to bed Jen. Just…sleep it away." She nodded and stood up as he did. Together they walked into the entryway and to her front door, their hands finally tearing apart when she went to turn the key in the lock. It was a slow and smooth parting of fingers, as if not wanting to let go, and they both felt it. Jennifer finally let lose a wave of fears she had been holding in for the past eighty minutes there on the couch.

"I didn't do good today," she whispered to him, her face crumpling as they stood in the doorway, the cold wind of the night time biting at their exposed hands and faces. He reached for her hands, holding each in his own and they faced each other, two strikingly similar souls, together. She sighed sadly, her brow still deeply furrowed. "It wasn't supposed to be like that. I had no control over what happened, when I should've. I should've Matt!" They embraced for the third time that night, feeling less self conscious about it than the previous times, and with ease he held her tightly, understanding exactly how she felt as she shed a few more tears. And then out of nowhere he kissed her left cheek, grazing her high on the cheekbone with his lips.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

It took her completely by surprise, but only fuelled her thoughts and feelings into the open further. She looked into his eyes, her arms still linked around his torso. "Maybe I'm not meant for this job anymore," she whispered, barely audible.

Matt frowned. "What?" he asked, stricken just a little.

"I don't get the results I want from myself in this job Matt," she urged, frowning also. "I wanted to do so much with Matilda and Nash, I really wanted to help them, get down on their level, but I had to figure out who killed Rose Crawley first. It's crime first, people second. I hate that." She was so confused…everything she had ever known was slipping away and she seemed to be entering the unknown. The job could really get to people. And it had gotten to Jennifer.

Blown away, Matt stood shocked, her still so close to him, as the moonlight licked their faces and rifled stealthily through their hair. "But…" he stumbled on his words. "I couldn't do this job if you weren't there," he admitted in a whisper, his eyes shattered.

She had no answer for him, and she mentally tore back and forth between what she felt and what she wanted. Were they the same thing? It was so hard to tell anymore. She shrugged her shoulders ever so slightly in his hold and shook her head, in part to try and clear it and in part to convey her confused feelings to Matt. She closed her eyes for a second and as she did she felt the urge to do what she might never get the chance to do again. As she opened her eyes again, their lips connected, and she felt better for the most fleeting of moments, and knew that she could never do any job without him either. But the moment they parted, her doubts came rushing back. He left in silence, almost as confused and distraught as she was.

It was 1am by the time he got home. He padded quietly to bed, knowing Emma was probably asleep. Allowing his eyes to adjust to the darkness that engulfed their bedroom he saw her lying on her side of the bed, the covers up around her ears. He stood and looked at her for several moments before changing his clothes and hopping in beside her. Ever since she had moved in, every night he had gotten into bed beside her and tried to feel the justification of her sharing his house. And every night he had felt less and less like he had a connection with her. Why had they moved in together? To keep up appearances? Because his Dad was in the retirement home now? Because it was somewhat easier to be involved with a normal person than it was someone from the force? He didn't really love her…she was just convenient and so nice and so caring, and perhaps at the time it was what he needed – but it wasn't now. They didn't click, they just scooted around each other. And one overwhelming thing he had noticed about being with Jennifer that night was that they didn't even have to _try _to click. They just did, automatically and naturally.

He stayed awake all night, trying to sort it out in his head, and trying to think of a way to get Jennifer to reconsider ditching her career. When streaks of sunshine hit him square in the face, he got up immediately, skipped a shower, dressed quietly and left the house as the birds began to sing. He reached the Homicide building not long after and, finally feeling the effects of being up all night, headed straight to the little kitchenette to make a coffee.

He stopped short when he saw Jennifer sitting at the table in the corner, her legs crossed, her head in her hands. "Jen!" he gasped. He didn't expect to see her there at all, considering the hour of the day.

She semi smiled at him as she tore her eyes away from what she was reading at the table. "What are you doing here so early?" she asked, a little embarrassed and self conscious after what had happened the night before.

He held his ground, feeling a little desperate. "I'm here to convince you to stay in the job," he declared.

She smiled, loving that he hadn't been scared off after last night and was going in to bat for her so urgently. "Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere," she smiled in reply.

Matt breathed out in relief as he pulled out the chair opposite her and sat himself down. That was easy, he thought. "What made you change your mind?" he asked not even sure if he cared to know, but curious all the same.

She pushed what she had been reading across the table so that he could see it. He picked it up and turned it over in his hands. It was a diary, elegantly black and hard covered, but with 'Matilda' written across the front in an embossed glittery ink. It gave a sense of fun to what was a very serious looking book, and he knew immediately that it was just one way Matilda Bond had tried to cling onto the innocence and good clean fun that must've been her childhood. He opened it up, but only fanned through the pages – the entire thing was full, less the last half dozen pages, and it was a blur of hopes and dreams, thoughts and feelings, pain and sorrow, and he thought perhaps it better he didn't read it. He looked back up at Jennifer.

"Stanley gave it to me yesterday," she explained. "I read it after you left last night and couldn't put it down." She sighed quietly. "It's so much more intense than I thought it'd be. She was so far beyond me being able to help her. And it made me realise that even though I wanted to help Matilda, I couldn't have done that as well as I can police work." She closed the diary and pushed it aside, looking Matt in the eye. "I can't help people like her as well as a psychologist or a therapist could. This is all I know how to do," she explained, gesturing to what was around her. "I've only just realised what a balance this is you know, between helping people and doing what's right."

Matt nodded, understanding. She was right, even if it did sound like a cliché, or as if it were out of a self help book. He reached for her hand across the table. "This must be where you belong then," he grinned.

She nodded, looking a whole lot better than she had previously. "It definitely is."

Song credits: Gavin Rossdale, Michael Paynter, Whitesnake.


End file.
